


Last and Least

by KyberHearts



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars
Genre: Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus - Freeform, Everybody Lives, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jyn is aggressively supportive, Post-Rogue One, Slow Burn, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-10-30 06:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10871118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyberHearts/pseuds/KyberHearts
Summary: Sometimes, it takes only one person to change a story.With the survival of Imperial scientist Galen Erso, the Rogue One rebels find themselves on Scarif with more time to escape with the Death Star plans long before the outpost is destroyed. They are celebrated as heroes on Yavin IV in the months before its evacuation, concerning themselves with rebuilding K-2SO and hoping for Bodhi Rook to wake up from a mysterious coma.Jyn Erso and the squadron are assigned to one last mission before they go their different ways: some to recovery and civilization, others back to the battlefront. For Jyn, she struggles picturing a future where she's not with Cassian Andor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! This is a WIP fic centered around a couple that absolutely captured my attention during my second watch of Rogue One. This chapter is a little lengthy because it's rewriting main points of the storyline, but most everything else can be expected to stay the same.
> 
> As usual, the title may be temporary and tags will be updated with the exception of spoilers :^) Please feel free to share your thoughts with me as I write this fic.
> 
> Thank you!

The tension in the elevator is impeccable. 

_ Flash-forward.  _

They sit on a beach, but Jyn remembers her father lecturing her about how each and every grain of sand beneath their knees, beneath their feet, was once part of something alive, of something breathing. They sit on corpses. Black sand beaches lined the Lah’mu shorelines and would abrade Jyn’s heels as she raced her mother. The sand here is softer and a light tan; she wonders if their bodies would be invited to the seaside necropolis.

Jyn risks a look at the captain.

_ Rewind.  _

His head tilts. For a moment, they stand apart. And then as light dances through the elevator shafts, as sounds of war begin to fade from their surroundings, they find, inexplicably, their place in each-other's arms. He looks tender and there’s something in his expression that stirs warmth in her heart.  _ What is this _ ? Jyn thinks.  _ What is this look in his eyes, his gaze? _

He is counting flecks of stardust in her eyes. 

_ Rewind.  _

Jyn is on her knees again, but this time she kneels before an image of her father, lost and found, and lost again.  _ Stardust. Stardust. Stardust. _ He was alive. Someone in the galaxy whose blood she shared still survived. And then Jyn heard his voice again, but this time he speaks something cold, uninvited:  _ Death Star. _

The walls of the Jedha stone base of operations tremble and begin to fill the room with dust. When the captain runs in, fully armed and equipped once more, he hesitates before placing a hand on her shoulder. He talks in a persuasive tone. Much unlike her father’s.  _ We have to go. _

The warrior behind her, in front of him, tightens his grip on a staff but sees only his younger self in this man's eyes. A man willing to die for a cause. A man who would trade anything and everything for a victory.

_ She will be safe with him, _ Saw Gerrera thinks. This thought is among the last of his own. 

_ Flash-foward. _

Alliance starfighters pepper the stormy atmosphere. Orbs of pulsing pinkish light fall from the sky, slower than rain, leaving the sensation of lightning in her mouth with each explosion on the Eadu complex. Jyn pushes slick hair out of her eyes and spies her father standing. She screams and he turns to look at herー  _ it’s him, it’s really him _ ー and another proton torpedo strikes the base.

Her skull strikes the ground and she blacks out for a moment.

When Jyn’s vision refocuses, she realizes two things.

One: Galen Erso, her father, should not have survived that explosion. The bomb landed between them, though much closer to him, and had thrown them in separate directions. If Jyn can taste blood in the back of her throat, she can only imagine the disastrous, mortal state her father would be in. She clings to slim probability as she begins to crawl over to his bent body.

Two: Galen Erso, her father, survives.

_ Flash-forward. _

Jyn remains by her father’s side as medical examiners treat, drug, and at last deliver him to an appearance before the Rebel alliance leaders n Yavin IV. Mon Mothma is present along with numerous others. They interrogate him about the nature of his treason. They demand if the Death Star really does have a fatal flaw in its design. They ask for proof.  _ I have no plans of its structural engineering on my person, _ he says,  _ and it will be impossible for me to access the archives on Eadu. Those laboratories have been destroyed, and the Empire thinks me dead. _

The only other copies remain at the Citadel Tower in Scarif, one of the most heavily guarded and monitored Empire outposts. Due to Galen’s disabled presence with a shattered thigh bone, a collapsed lung, and his assumed death, the Alliance sees no reason to send him to Scarif. Mon Mothma and the council but ultimately gives in to the conclusion: there is no way to trust Galen Erso.

Jyn sits with her father in the infirmary.

“You’re living evidence,” she says as she stabs at the halfway decent meat in her bowl. “But they still won’t believe you.”

Galen studies her face. He does that often, to make up for the past fifteen years of absence. He sees her exhausted eyes, her near-permanent scowl, the way her hair is always up in a ponytail. He sees his daughter, and sometimes, her mother.

“Papa,” Jyn smiles. “You’re staring again.”

“I’m sorry, Stardust,” he says with his own timid smile. Galen touches her chin and Jyn closes her eyes. “I have so much to tell you.”

Jyn pushes the morning meal around in her bowl, ignoring the twinges in her newly healed wrist bones, fractured on Eadu. “If we had the Death Star plans, they would be convinced, wouldn’t they?” She doesn’t need an answer to know she’s right. Jyn is thinking, tossing and turning an idea into potential.

Bodhi Rook shows up, anxiously wringing his hands, but Galen receives him like a close friend. Jyn quietly leaves to give them some privacy. Two defected Imperialists; an engineer and his spy. They are still there when Jyn returns in the afternoon to check on her father, but it seems that Galen and Bodhi have fallen asleep.

Jyn places a hand on Bodhi’s shoulder, and he snaps out of his dozing. “Hey,” he smiles, and glances at the sleeping Galen. “He’s doing just fine. I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Me too.” Jyn takes a seat. “How are Chirrut and Baze?”

“They’reー well, losing Jedha was difficult.” Bodhi takes a deep breath. “I haven’t even let myself, you know, grasp the idea that it’s just... gone.” A slight pause. “Did you hear?”

“Little vague. About what?”

Galen stirs, and opens his eyes. “Apparently,” he murmurs, “I wasn’t supposed to be alive by the time you returned to Yavin IV.”

“How is that?” With the way Bodhi refuses to meet her gaze, Jyn returns to the night of Eadu. She remembers being suspicious of the captain, the way he acted, Chirrut’s simple remarks about the Force. She’d been too occupied with worrying about her father on the way home to confront him, and lacked a chance until now. She stands, and places a quick kiss on her father’s cheek.

“Do not be too harsh with him, Stardust,” Galen advises. “He may have been sent to kill me, but he chose not to. You must understand.” He gestures to himself and Bodhi.

Bodhi adds, “Mothma put him on suspension. He’s in the barracks, which I guess is the rebel’s version of solitary confinement.”

She leaves again. Jyn heads straight for the aforementioned prison which she was held in temporarily upon her first arrival to the rebel base. It was past the depot, accessible through winding tunnels that led to soldiers’ quarters. Jyn’s pace is consistent, although her mind is whirling. She has no idea what to say to him.

There is only one guard on duty, but the prisoner tonight is of no flight risk.

Jyn stands and levels her eyes with his dark gaze.

“Cassian,” she says, “Did you have orders to kill my father?”

He does not answer.

“Cassian!”

“What does it matter?” he retorts.

Jyn seizes the bars and shakes them slightly. “What does it matter?” she repeats incredulously. “My  _ father _ ー”

“ーwho is alive and in the infirmary and on his way to recovery, I hear,” Cassian says. He gestures, mockingly, and presents the prison cell with grandeur. “While I sit here awaiting a hearing for disobeying direct orders from a general.” The captain surges forwards so that he grabs the bars, too. His face is inches away from Jyn’s. “I could have killed him from the moment I saw him on Eadu. But I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Becauseー” Cassian’s grip tightens, his lips press into a line, and then he slips away. “I couldn’t. Part of me believed your father was right.”

Jyn glances at the guard, who had politely slipped further down the hall to perhaps escape their argument.

She lowers her voice. “You’d risk your mission because of your beliefs?”

“Jyn, I serve the Alliance with everything I have,” Cassian says, with a thick voice. “But there is nothing I want more than to end the war.” He shuffles and sits down on the meager wooden bench in the cell. “I heard the council was not convinced by your father. So in the Alliance’s eyes, saving him or killing him held the same result. We don’t have evidence.”

Jyn stares at the space above his head. “It’s at Citadel Tower. Scarif. All the Death Star plans. It’s there.”

“It would spell our death if we tried to go.”

She dares to shift her eyes, and finds that Cassian stares at her profoundly. “I know.”

“The council would never approve.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this idea?”

“No,” he stands. “But I’ll say I am of no use while I’m inside of this cell.”

Jyn knocks out the guard. She takes the keys and releases Cassian. Together, they rush through the halls with late afternoon light beginning to paint the walls. They split up: Jyn goes to find Bodhi, Chirrut, and Baze. Cassian bets that a number of rebels are willing to volunteer for this deadly mission, assassins and spies who shared his willingness to end the war at the cost of their life. 

Between finding her crew and reuniting with Cassian at the stolen Imperial cargo ship, she stops by the infirmary to see her father for a last time. Her heart and soul stops her from entering the room. She might shatter if she heard him speak one more time; she might give in if he asked her to stay. So she watches him, tries to burn his image into her mind, for as long as she can bear.

Galen looks up and sees his daughter fighting tears. In an instant, he knows that this time, it is Jyn who will leave someone behind.

“Goodbye,” she whispers to him, and then disappears.

_ Flash-forward. _

Jyn and Cassian are trapped in the Citadel archives room with the echoes of K-2’s last transmitted message.  _ Climb.  _ They look at each other, terrified beyond their wits, but know that this isn’t the end yet. Locked away from the fighting on the beaches and amidst the Scarif landing pads, they do not realize that Yavin IV reinforcements had arrived shortly after them.

Galen had informed Mon Mothma of their disobedient departure and gave them what he could: More time.

_ Flash-forward _ .

A blaster shot strikes Krennic in the chest, not a killing blow, but he falls down and lies unconscious miles and miles above anything else. Jyn lets out a little gasp of relief as Cassian shakingly puts down his blaster. He leans against a column, nursing a broken ankle from where he’d fallen previously.

The atmosphere crackles and the two look up to see the planet-wide defense matrix fail with a spectacular explosion at the Shield Gate. Jyn activates the switch. Smoke trails around the tower like ribbon around a pole, and the air burns her lungs. On the satellite dish mainframe, a progress bar slowly fills.

The Death Star plans are being transmitted.

_ Flash-forward. _

Jyn and Cassian collapse on the beachfront and stare at the first shadows of the Death Star approaching. They know that Scarif is its next target. They will die here on the sand. He takes her hand. “Your father would be proud,” he tells her with a beautiful, soft smile.

She wishes she can tell him something, too. But there is no reason to reassure Cassian. He would die as he lived, for the Alliance. Jyn would kiss him, if she knew she had time.

A wind picks up. Sand gets in their clothes, their eyes, and suddenly there are hands around them. They haul them on a whirring aircraftー Bodhi’s newly named Rogue Oneー and before they know it, they are homebound to Yavin IV. Jyn and Cassian cling to each other.  _ Is this a dream? Are we dead? _ Jyn murmurs to him.  _ It feels painful. _

She scans the cargo plane’s belly. The wounded are crying with too much pain for this to be the afterlife. Jyn sees Chirrut and Baze crouch over an unconscious Bodhi, whose face is stained with blood but seems to be all right otherwise. She wants to get up and check on them, but Cassian holds fast to her.

_ Don’t leave me, _ he says.

The epiphany comes strong, fast, like a punch delivered to his gut. Cassian pulls Jyn into a crushing hug and cries into her shoulder. She embraces him back, just as tightly. The aches in their arms and chests are evidence of living. His words are raspy, hoarse, unsure but swells with confidence as he repeats over and over again:  _ We did it. _

Although racked the loss of the reprogrammed Imperial droid, their friend K-2SO, against all odds Rogue One is alive.


	2. Chapter 2

The Empire branded them as thieves.

The Alliance praised them as heroes.

Jyn, Cassian, Chirrut, and Baze had their bittersweet survival. On one hand, they had done the impossible. The Death Star plans had been transmitted to the Alliance ships and the secret to the weapon’s downfall was exchanged hand to hand to an unknown vessel. The whereabouts of the plans were currently unknown to the majority of Yavin IV, but assured safe and sound.

On the other hand, they had lost K-2SO and watched medics rush Bodhi Rook away to the infirmary for careful examination. Cassian was treated for his broken ankle, and the others with minor abrasions and cuts. Baze had quietly admitted that the hearing in his left ear was absent after one shoretrooper’s grenade landed too close to him.

Bodhi Rook, they were told, was unconscious and unresponsive to any kind of stimuli. He was comatose, but none of the medical examiners could explain why. “He looks physically fine,” says a doctor with scales lining his jaw and hairline. “But you all went through hell on Scarif. Give him some time, and he’ll be back on his feet.”

This uplifting advice lasts for three days at the most.

Chirrut and Baze visit Bodhi routinely, for Chirrut to pray to the Force as Baze kept company. One day, they run into Galen Erso who is on his way to see Bodhi. He does not know the two except that they were friends of Jyn and to the Alliance.

“We were Guardians of the Temple on Jedha,” says Chirrut as he leans heavily on his staff. “And you are Galen Erso.”

“You’re the one who uses kyber crystals for the Death Star,” Baze accuses.

“Easy, Baze,” Chirrut murmurs. “He is here for a reason.”

“He built the Death Star. He’sー” Baze is overwhelmed with anger, and he lashes out in a tongue that Galen faintly recognizes. At last his eyes fall on Bodhi’s still form beyond the glass, on a cot, and he calms slightly. Baze manages to say: “He killed Jedha.”

“Bazeー”

“No, it’s correct,” says Galen. “I will take that responsibility.” He straightens his shoulders the best he can while on crutches, and bows his head. “I apologize greatly for the error of my actions and how it willed the Empire to robbing your sacred Temples.”

Baze scowls and pushes past them, uninterested in forgiveness. Chirrut does not say anything either, but gestures for Galen to enter the infirmary. “Losing Jedha is a fresh wound. Baze and myself are trying to reach out and find others who survived. But it has been challenging.”

They sit around Bodhi, who has been relieved from most of his intravenous tubes and looks considerably better than before. Chirrut tightens his grip on his staff and quietly prays under his breath.

The three do not converse much. Suddenly in the timid silence, Chirrut chuckles and says, "You're the one who gave Jyn her kyber crystal necklace." Galen did not realize, but that was the catalyst. Chirrut was the one who called out to Jyn. It was her necklace that convinced Chirrut that the Force held a certain, important aura around the young woman.

As Chirrut and Galen talk, they find common ground with Jyn and the unconscious pilot, and Chirrut finds Galen interesting. The traitorous officer has a brilliant mind for philosophy and science, immense love for his daughter, and appears to hold the Force in his highest respect.

“Can you control the Force?” asks Galen, whose crutches rest underneath his chair. “I have heard of Jedi who use the Force to manipulate minds and their surroundings.” When Chirrut smiles, he adds, “Can _you_?”

“I cannot,” says Chirrut. “But those who are naturally Force-sensitive may channel some influence. Powers are amplified with the presence of kyber crystals.” He gestures to the metal cap at the end of his ancient staff. “They help me to understand where I am.”

“Harmonics,” says Galen without a trace of doubt in his voice.

Baze lets out a short bark of laughter. “You must have studied thousands and thousands of crystals.”

“I did.” Galen studies the lines on Baze’s weary face. The mercenary had trimmed and braided his thick locks, and traded in his heavy suit for simple cotton, giving a semblance of civility and calm where it only contrasted with his words filled with abhorrence. “We studied them at outposts on a planet with scarce populations. Malpaz. I believed we were working towards sustainable energy. I tried to escape with Lyra and Jyn after the revelation of all of our research would be helping build a superweapon.”

Chirrut tilts his head. “Many do not need to rely on the Force for tricking others.”

“While I was off-planet, an explosion destroyed the facilities I worked at,” Galen continues. He reaches into his pocket for a napkin and a pen, all too aware of Baze’s tense arms and suspicious expression. He begins to sketch a building hidden in a crop of mountains. “Evacuation was imminent. This happened right before I escaped with my family. I neglected to inform the commanders about the emergency stash of untouched crystals located fifteen klicks south from the labs.”

He adds coordinates and passes the napkin to Baze.

“You will not find thousands, but at least a few hundred. The Empire no longer holds domain over the planet. Do what you will with them, Guardians.”

Chirrut’s face breaks out into a huge smile, one that stretched ear to ear. “Malpaz,” he breathes. “Thank you, Galen.” He grabs Baze’s free hand and squeezes it enthusiastically, knowing that a legacy for the sacred kyber crystals remained hidden in the galaxy.

“Thank you,” Baze says finally.

The ex-Imperial officer nods, and his eyes travel past the Jedha natives to where Jyn stood patiently outside of the infirmary. “My daughter is waiting for me.” He picks up his crutches and nods respectfully at Baze and Chirrut. “Thank you for allowing me to sit with you. I hope the Force will listen to you, Chirrut.” He casts one more concerned look at Bodhi, the pilot who he views closer to a son than a friend, and limps away to meet Jyn.

“How is Cassian?” is the first thing Galen asks. Jyn hesitates in the way Lyra does: a breath hitches in her throat, her eyes flick away to corners of the room, and she shrugs. “Is Captain Andor once more in the barracks?”

“No,” she says finally. “We’re being treated as heroes. Even if he refused to kill you on Draven’s orders.” Jyn is thinking back to Scarif, to how the white-cloaked ghost who stole her mother’s life cornered her on a ledge, and how Cassian rose from the dead to shoot him. “I can’t find energy to be mad at him anymore.”

They take their meals at the cafeteria and sit down before workers and engineers swarm the hall minutes later. Even if Jyn and Galen Erso did the impossible, hardly anyone gave them a glance. It was still difficult to understand how an Imperial science officer was able to sit amongst them without a thought of betrayal to the Alliance.

A familiar face slides into the seat next to Jyn. Cassian Andor decides to abandon his brace and accepts the stinging aches in his healing ankle. “Evening,” he says briskly. “Galen, you’ve been assigned a hearing on behalf of the council.”

Fear rippled down Jyn’s spine. “For what?” she asks a little too quickly.

He glances at her. “A full pardon.”

Both Ersos let out a sigh of relief.

“Your hearing starts in two hours in the briefing room. Open attendance. But Mon Mothma would like to speak with you privately beforehand.” Cassian gestures towards the exit. “I’ve been asked to escort you. You can finish your meal.”

“I’m finished. Let’s get going.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jyn says, and scoops up their dinner bowls. But Cassian hesitatesー his shoulders stiffen, his lips part to speak a thought silently, perhaps in another languageー and then says: “This will be a private meeting. You are more than welcome to attend the pardon.”

"Butー"

Cassian offers a slight, nervous grin. “No breaking the rules anymore. Sorry.” He disappears with her father down a tunnel, but Jyn lingers at the dinner table and thinks about Scarif. She wants to leave behind the violence and loss that settles in her bones like a souvenir of the mission. She imagines different scenarios and what could have happened differently. _That’s K-2’s job,_ she thinks distantly with a pang of melancholy for the unlikely friend.

She closes her eyes. _Don’t leave me_ , Cassian tells her. Jyn knows that those were words for a kind of panic and aftershock she would never want to experience again. Would she admit that yes, she would repeat Scarif and its nightmares again, just to hear him?

The question hangs, unanswered, as suddenly emergency lights go off and the rebel workers split up into different directions: the landing pads, report rooms, and even sentry posts. Jyn stands but doesn’t know what to do. She decides to go down the tunnel Cassian and her father used, and finds herself at the back of a crowd surrounding a grave-looking general.

“What’s happening?” she whispers to a rebel standing next to her.

“Incoming reports. The princess, Leia, and _Tantive IV_ went missing just after the Scarif fight. You know, where theyー” The young man stutters to a stop, suddenly recognizing Jyn’s face. She raises her eyebrows. _Keep going._ “Well, well, anyways, the princess’s on her way back. With theーwell, you know.”

Jyn doesn’t know.

“The Death Star plans.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jyn wanders the Yavin IV base in a sort of daze. Within a matter of hours, Her Royal Highness arrived at the rebel post with scraggly-looking stowaways, but who have not left her side since arrival. She knows that Leia carries the Death Star plans, just as Jyn did, but she wishes with all her might that the two keep their distance.

How could Jyn look at this princess, and show her condolences for the annihilated Alderaan?

She could imagine the conversation.

_ You’re Jyn Erso. You’re the one who stole the Death Star plans. But your father. He’s an Imperial officer, isn’t he? _

_ Not anymore. _

_ That doesn’t stop the fact that he helped create the Death Star. The superweapon that killed my parents, my home. Why are you atoning for his sins? You already carry his name. Erso. We all know who he is. What he’s done. _

Jyn would defend her father to her last breath. Still, these intrusive thoughts start to dredge her thoughts and doubts about him, thoughts that bred and multiplied during his fifteen years of absence.

The young woman forces herself to stop pacing and take a deep breath. Due to the princess’s unexpected arrival, Galen’s pardon was conducted without an audience and a piece of paper with Mon Mothma’s signature was shoved in his hand. He rests in his quarters now, and the base quietly, anxiously prepares for an inevitable battle.

The starship depots are quiet during the evenings. She goes and sits on one of the large crates, and watches the people mill about. They all have a purpose, a sense of duty to the Alliance. Jyn feels like a parasite; she’s just tagging along for the free meals.

Sure, she was a hero.

But now what?

Her father would leave this life behind. He’d find peace, perhaps return to Lah’mu if the memories were not too painful. Jyn can already imagine his question:  _ Would you come with me? _ And what? Live with her father, farming and living far, far away from war and violence?

It doesn’t sound like a wholly terrible idea.

Not for the first time today, a figure sidles up to her side. Cassian’s eyes scour the skies and the stars for incoming Imperial fighters. None in sight. He hops up on the crate and rests his ankle, massaging the area lightly. “You should really wear your brace,” Jyn tells him, and he leans into her shoulder.

“It’s uncomfortable.”

He smells like coffee grinds. All of their body weight press against each other like equilibrium. Jyn closes her eyes. Cassian seems so relaxed, so unwound. It’s unusual, but it’s a nice change. “What will you do when the war ends?” she asks softly.

“Join some other resistance. There are plenty of fights out there.” He stifles a yawn. “And you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Some days I think about growing old. Maybe settle down. Find a way to enjoy peace again.” Jyn opens her eyes and pulls back to look at Cassian. His beard’s a little thicker than the first time they met. His eyes remain the same: dark, elusive, unreadable.

But apparently he knows what she’s thinking, and finishes her words. “And then you wonder: _Am I going to live that long?_ ” Cassian shifts his shoulders. “Me too. I think about it. All the time.”

“You’ve always been so sure,” Jyn says. “You know how you want to live, and how to die. Always, always fighting for something bigger than yourself.” She recalls the look in Cassian’s eyes as they hurtled through space towards Scarif, their predicted deaths. There was hope in his eyes, especially because Jyn had given him and the rest of the volunteers a cause worth fighting for.

The captain tilts his head and asks, “And now? After you’ve fought with the Alliance? Seen how far we’ve come?”

She struggles to find the words. They’re floating in the air, scattered, and Jyn doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. “It’s harder for me when it’s a cause. I think… I find it easier to fight for someone.”

This is not difficult to miss in Jyn’s personality and actions. Cassian remembers the way she nearly killed herself trying to save a small Jedha girl. And then in Saw Gerrera’s base of operations, the way she crumbled into pieces after seeing her father’s message. Destroyed and then rebuilt with the thought that the Empire ruined her family and needed to end. 

Cassian nods. He understands when she says that she would give up her life for a single individualー “Like fighting for your father.”

“Yes.”

“Now that he has a full pardon and can go anywhere he wantsー” A slight pause. “Will you follow him?”

Jyn tweaks a sharp smirk on her lips and shoots back, “Should I?”

“It’s not my decision!” Cassian chuckles. “I would miss you.” Seeing her dubious, mocking expression, he hastens to emphasize, “Yes, yes, I would miss you, Jyn. Damn. But I can’t decide for you.” He winces as he leans forward and stands gingerly.

She rolls her eyes, and slips an arm around him. “Come on.” Together, they hobble like some three-legged beast towards the sleeping quarters, and Jyn almost throws Cassian on his bed. The light-haired woman ransacks his unit, and hands him prescribed painkillers. “Take two of these and then sleep. Please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m serious. I’m right across the hall and I won’t be able to sleep if you keep moaning and groaning about your ankle.” Jyn pauses before leaving, wavering, and asks, “Are you going to be okay?”

Cassian lifts his head from his pillow and smiles faintly. “I’ll be fine.”

So Jyn bids him a good night. Her own sleeping unit is, true enough, located directly across. The tunnel is wide and a dozen strides apart, and halfway there, a figure in a white cloak approaches. Her heart seizes, thinks it’s the man in white, the murderer Krennic.

But the person lowers their hood and reveals a girl with pinned up hair and slight awe in her eyes. She’s young, but holds herself with pride. Her mouth is set, ready to debate and argue, and Jyn knows that she’s looking at one of the Alliance’s many rebels. No doubt about it.

The girl asks in a clear, strong voice.  “You’re Jyn Erso, right?”

She tenses reflexively. “Yeah.”

“I’m Leia.”

Jyn takes a step backwards. Startled. “Princess. Uh, what are you doing here?” She hopes she doesn’t sound too blunt, but it doesn’t seem that the royalty is bothered.

“I wanted to meet the woman who made it all possible.” Leia nears, and shows the black and gold disc in her hand. It would be a data file that is easy to hide in robes and bags. Jyn feels a shiver of familiarity as she takes it from the princess. “We made copies. I thought you might like to have the original plans. Thisー” she taps the surface of the discー “is your legacy.”

_ Legacy. _

“But what about Alderaan?”

The question bursts out before she can stop it, and Jyn immediately hates herself as Leia’s gorgeous smile slips into grief. An uncontrollable emotion that she’d bottled ever since she heard about the destruction of her home. “You think I hate your father.”

Jyn bites her lip. “Yes.”

“I know that he pled allegiance to the Empire. But he defected. He made this flaw in the Death Star. If that means anything,” the princess says, “it means your father has a conscience. And that’s rare, among Imperialists.”

“Butー”

“I know.” Leia’s eyes are gentle, trying desperately to defeat the despair. “I can’t blame your father. When this worksー when we destroy that damned Death Star, I can only thank him. He would save countless lives.” She sighs, and looks back through the tunnel to the main halls. “I should go. It was an honor, Jyn.”

Jyn, on an impulse, draws the petite girl into a hug. Was there protocol for hugging a princess? Was it allowed? Didn’t matter. Leia hugged her back, and Jyn felt a sob rack the princess’s small frame. So much pain. So much pain to bear for the woman in white. “It’ll be an honor to fight for you, princess.”

She feels a set of eyes on them, and looks up to see Cassian in his doorway.

For now, Jyn will stay with the Alliance.


	4. Chapter 4

“Jyn Erso.”

She cracks open her eyes, which then fly open in utter surprise when they meet two silver eyes. The KX-series security droid bends almost in half to peer at her, looming in the darkness. A blaster pistol seems to jumps into her hand from its hiding place under her pillow, and Jyn smacks the enforcer droid on the side of its head. It barely makes a dent, but the droid reels away with a loud, keening wail.

Cassian bursts into room. He’s donned in his bomber jacket and thick trousers, looking ready for another mission. His head swivels back and forth from her to the droid. Jyn crouches on her cot, trembling hands pointing the blaster, her senses on full, full alert. “It’s okay, everything’s okay.”

“What theー” she begins to say, but the gangly droid, whose head almost scrapes against the ceiling, raises an accusing finger and complains: “She  _ hit _ me, Cassian Andor! Everything is most certainly  _ not _ okay!”

The captain can’t help a flash of exasperation and amusement on his face, but his voice is lined with patience. “Kay, you don’t feel pain.” This revelation seems to shock him. “And please, just call me Cassian. No need for last names.”

K-2SO, back and well in his metal frame to Jyn’s boundless amazement, lopes the length of the room like a trapped insect. Eager to get out. His voice box emphasized words so that they seemed to have vibrato. “I was sent to wake you up by Cassian Andor. That’s him.” He says to Jyn and points. Cassian shuts his eyes. “And then I was rudely  _ gobsmacked _ . Should I engage riot enforcement protocols?”

“No!” Cassian checks himself. “No. Everything's fine, Kay.” He turns to Jyn and gestures her to lower the blaster. She is grateful that he doesn’t try and snatch it out of her hands. “Get ready. New developments.”

Jyn throws on clothes, brushes her teeth, and checks that she’s armed and ready in case of anything. She sneaks a glance out of the open unit door, and sees Cassian conversing quietly with the towering droid. Kay-Tu looks exactly as he did before. How many droids did the Alliance have lying around here?

“I need you to stay here,” says Cassian to Kay-Tu, and steers him across the hall to his own cell. He barely glances at Jyn as she exits the room, and keeps talking to Kay as if he’s a child.

“Why?”

“Your programming still needs to be tweaked. I would prefer to do that myself.”

“I don’t understand.” The droid stops right in the doorway, craning his neck to avoid hitting the head jamb. Kay-Tu peers at Cassian inquisitively. “My data files were backed up by your permissions. I am precisely as I was, when you first reprogrammed me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He runs a hand through his hair. People are waking up and bolting through the tunnel systems. Jyn feels their urgency, their excitement. Something important is happening. “Kay. Please.”

If the droid could frown, it most definitely would. Kay-Tu settles for relaying disappointment and annoyance in his voice as he lumbers into Cassian’s quarters. “I don’t like it. I won’t like it. I’ll complain the whole time.” Cassian gently closes the door and turns around to see Jyn.

“We should go,” he says lamely.

As they hurry to the mess hall, with Cassian limping significantly less than yesterday, Jyn confronts him. “Why are you hiding Kay-Tu in your room?”

“I’m not hiding him.”

“For a rebel spy, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Only when I’m lying to you.” A woman in a pilot’s suit rushes past with her helmet tucked under her arm. Cassian lowers his voice and Jyn has to lean in to listen carefully. “Okay. Protocol says that the KX-series is only purposed for aiding field operatives. Now that I’m back here, there was no justification to give me another droid."

“So you stole a droid.”

“I did not steal. I have the papers. But I was impatient. Engineers would want to do their own maintenance and recalibrations. I justー” Cassian shrugs helplessly. “I missed him.” In another time, Jyn would think his words were for gaining sentiments and pity.

Now it was harder to know the true intentions in his voice. Jyn had to rely on trust; she was on a learning curve, thanks to the Rogue One squadron.

General Draven started the briefing moments after Cassian and Jyn arrived, jaw twitching, and gestured to the airfield of swarming pilots and engineers. “About ten minutes ago, we received intelligence of the Death Star approaching Yavin IV from hyperspace. As of now, General Dodonna is assembling Red and Gold Squadrons to hit the skies and work on disabling the Death Star.

“If you are here and listening, I want this entire base on red alert. We need soldiers on the depot for preparations. I need intelligence officers. All pilots and their droids, get to your Starfighters now.”

Jyn has only experienced this kind of mania with Saw Gerrera’s militia, but he could not boast a base of operations of this size and efficiency. Immediately rebels dispersed in their respective directions per Draven’s orders. Cassian seized Jyn’s elbow and together they slipped into the intelligence offices.

The first thing they both saw was a hologram of the menacing, terribly beautiful Death Star. Jyn felt her throat close up at the sight. Bu she knows: by the end of today, it will be nothing but junk in space. It has to be.

Galen Erso stands with Princess Leia next to the holograph, discussing the location of the exhaust port with an older, bearded man in a tan jacket. A shiny gold chrome droid sticks like glue to Leia’s side. The princess looks up, and the glittering concern in her eyes is all too apparent to Jyn.

Cassian watches a screen to the left that maps the assault starfighters and bombers that launch from Yavin and near the Death Star. The dots look miniscule in comparison to the superweapon. And then, they watch with dismay, as a bullet of TIE fighters spilled from the Death Star. Friendly and enemy vessels with distinct colors of red and green, began to blink out of existence.

“The first attack run,” Cassian murmurs to Jyn, the former more experienced with reading the battlefield. “Gold Squadron.”

Everyone in the room tenses, even the golden droid. Jyn swears that she hears him quietly moan: “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no,” and she counts her lucky stars with K-2SO. They gawk at the lights as their three green lights speed towards the Death Star, closely pursued by red lights, and then one by one the green lights fell away. One disappeared off the map completely. 

The other two starfighters spiraled back to the Yavin IV atmosphere. Several TIE fighters broke away from the fight and ensued a chase.

Immediately the room kicked into action. “Get me all eyes on the skies,” one of the commanders roars, his face turning beet red behind a large curly mustache. “Reach out to the outskirt outposts, call on any starfighters who are still grounded. New initiative: keep any and all TIEs away from our base. We will not tolerate any attacks here. We cannot lose our connection to the remaining Red Squadron.”

“Commander Hudsol, what about the Gold Squadron wrecks?” asks one intelligence officer who looks considerably pale and strained.

“Get a crew of soldiers and medical droids,” Hudsol orders. “Find someone who is still on the rebel base competent to navigate to the wrecks and search for survivors.”

Cassian steps forwards and instantly captures Hudsol’s and the other leaders’ attention. “Commander Hudsol, Captain Andor ready to volunteer to lead this search and rescue team.” Jyn isn’t the one volunteering for this mission, but her heart pounds heavily.

Hudsol nods. There isn’t much time to consider alternative options. “Affirmative, Captain. I’ll get a crawler on standby but most of the search will be on foot. Time is of the essence. Time to find survivors, if any, and apprehend any grounded TIE fighters. We’ll send reinforcements as soon as we find avaliable rebels.” 

Jyn follows Cassian closely to the depot, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. He looks armed, he looks ready to fight. He must have been prepared for any kind of mission. “Cassian, are you going to be okay with that ankle?”

He looks at her, surprised at her question. “Even with everything we’ve done, bruised and broken and able to steal those plans? I think I can manage a limp.” Cassian throws his bag on a crawler already surrounded by rebels and a few droids. “It’s nice to know that you care.”

“Cassian,” Jyn think it’s hard to breathe right now. “Just be careful.”

He laughs a little before he hops on the crawler. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.” Cassian leans down and kisses Jyn’s cheek. The captain nods at the rebel manning the wheel, and they race off into the Yavin IV jungles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I loved writing K-2SO


	5. Chapter 5

Jyn hears the first whispers of victory less than two hours later. They’re soft, confused:

_ We won. _

_ We did it. _

She’s in the rebel depot, exactly where Cassian had left her when he went off into the jungles. She looks around for the person who whispered this. Jyn sees him approach, closely followed by his partner. Chirrut Îmwe, with a hand on Baze’s arm, and he looks at the sky with an elated expression.

“We did it,” he whispers again, to no one in particular. His pale hand then slips into Baze’s, who squeezes tightly and without a doubt, believes him.

A breath later, the Death Star in the sky erupts into fire and something that feels like… consolation. It shouts, that they are victors today after bloodshed and sacrifice. The world around Jyn fades. She hears the people all around her, the rookie and veteran rebels, scream and hug and kiss, although their smiles were miles and miles away; she’s lost in the shock of victory.

And then it comes all roaring back.

A tear runs down her face, and Jyn claps a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Her eyes trail to see Chirrut and Baze, the latter who looks adoringly at Chirrut, draws him close, and kisses him. Chirrut drops his staff to wrap his arms around Baze’s neck.

“Tell me,” Chirrut demands, “What does it look like? Is it beautiful?”

Baze’s answer is drowned out by the roar of the returning, surviving starfighters and bombers that land on the depot. Celebration pauses as rebels act out their duties of reeling and anchoring the spaceships, then helping the pilots out.

The hero of the day is the young Skywalker, blond and boyishly handsome, who says over and over again,  _ It was the Force, the Force, that helped me.  _ Jyn doesn’t know it yet, but when she looks at him, she’s looking at a new generation of Jedi.

The people trickle back into the buildings, and Chirrut and Baze disappear along with them. Jyn and a few depot workers remain outside in the coming evening. Her gaze, inevitably, returns to the line where the depot ends and the wilderness begins.

She hears K-2SO’s heavy, plodding footsteps approach. Seems as if he grew bored of waiting in the room.

“You are Jyn Erso,” he says, looking down at her.

Jyn manages a small smile. “That’s me,” she answers.

“Do you know where Cassian Andor is?”

“He’s off on a search and rescue. He should be back soon.”

“What is your relationship with Cassian Andor?” Kay asks.

The young woman chews her lip as she mulls over the answer. Why the hesitation? Why the long pause? In the end, as always, Jyn asks a question instead. “Do you have any memory of Jedha? Or Eadu?” The name  _ Scarif _ burns on her tongue; it’s painful and harsh tonight.

“No. By my data files, those are the names of planets currently occupied by the Galactic Empire.” Kay’s silver eyes swivel and click in their slots. “Am I to assume that you and Cassian Andor worked with each other in the name of the Alliance?”

“You would assume right.”

“And that your last name identifies a relationship, predictably filial, to Galen Erso, the Imperial scientist?”

Jyn corrects him. “ _ Defected _ Imperial scientist.” 

“Interesting. I will update the stored information.”

There’s a shout from the forest. Calls for medics, as Cassian Andor and his crew limp onto the tarmac, covered in grime and helpless grins. They’ve managed to recover the bodies of the wrecked starfighters, sustaining some injuries from subsequent crashes within the area.

“Get these men to the med bay,” Cassian barks at the rebels who run up to him and heave away the wounded. He pauses, panting, to relieve the pressure on his ankle, but then he’s almost knocked off his feet as Jyn barrels into him, wrapping arms tight around him. For a brief moment, he thinks that she’s tackling him to protect him from airborne fire.

And then he remembers looking into the sky and watching the Death Star disintegrate.

And then Jyn pulls away and he sees the relieved smile on her face. “Welcome back,” she tells him.

Exhausted more than anything, Cassian says, “Let’s go back to the base. It’s been a long day, and my ankle hurts.” She nods, wipes her tears, and mutters something like  _ I told you so _ under her breath. The captain spots K-2SO, and beckons him to follow.

Cassian carries himself with a kind of ease as he enters the base, smiling and nodding along to the festivities echoing throughout the base. Tonight is a night to celebrate. But as they enter the sleeping quarters, something in him shifts. Splinters.

They halt outside of Cassian’s room, and Jyn sees that Cassian is on a brink of tears. She gently pushes him inside. Encourages him to shower away the dirt and sweat. Helps Kay-Tu figure out his charging station, and watching the droid lapse into a powered down sleep.

The bathroom door opens and Cassian reappears, hair damp and wearing white linen. He crawls into his bed without a word, and chew the painkillers that Jyn hand him. His eyes are red, his cheeks splotched from crying. Jyn brushes his wet hair out of his face, and watches tears slip out from his fluttering eyes.

“Jyn,” he murmurs, and shifts to one side of the bed. “C’mere.” She lies down next to him, and Cassian presses his cold lips to her hands. His breath ghosts over her skin. “Can I tell you something?”

She nods.

“Promise not to tell anyone else?”

She nods again.

“We destroyed the Death Star.” 

“I know, Cassian.” Jyn shies her gaze away from his, instead focusing on their interlocked hands. The last time they did anything remotely like this was on the Scarif beach. Prepared to die. Cassian blinks slowly at her, and cups her chin.

“Nothing’s changed,” he murmurs.

“What do you mean?”

“I meantー” Cassian struggles to find his words. “Nothing’s changed. Inside.” He talks under his breath in another language, one that smoothly rolls of his tongue, and then translates, “I’m still a spy, an assassin, a liar. That won’t ever change.”

Jyn’s heart falters a little. She risks a look at his face and sees a crushing helplessness. She has to say something. “Do you remember,” she breathes, “when you were in that prison cell, and I told you that we would die on Scarif as we stole the Death Star plans? Why did you agree to help me? Why did you find all of those rebels like you, the spies, the assassins, the liars, to help me?”

“I wanted to help you,” Cassian answers slowly. “Because I believed in you. I knew we were doing the right thing.”

“Did we?”

“Yes.”

“Yes. And now you’re here, and you’re with me. Kay’s back, Bodhi’s going to wake up, one day, one day soon. I saw Chirrut and Baze kiss like the old married couple they are. Baze was smiling. And did you know,” she can’t help the laugh that slips out between her words, “did you  _ know  _ that we’re going to win this  _ fucking  _ war?”

He smiles a little bit.

Jyn tightens her grip on him. “Cassian, you’re first and foremost a rebel. You know that? You saved me on Scarif. You killed the man in white, you killed Krennic. And tonight we killed the Death Star.”

His voice drops. Soft, sad. Different than the melancholy. “Part of me knows that tonight is a victory. Everything we’ve worked for, together, and we saw it. I’m happy. I’m so, so happy.”

“Hold on to that feeling.” She shuts her eyes, herself clinging to that uplifting shift in his voice. It’s true, she loves him. It’s terrible, she loves him. She loves him, and he doesn’t think he deserves to live. “We won tonight, Cassian. And we  _ deserve _ it.”

He’s quiet. She should keep talking, but she doesn’t really know what else to say. Jyn racks her brain. She hears his breathing, hectic and heavy, start to calm down. Jyn’s eyes are still shut when she feels Cassian press his lips against her. The kiss is gentle, aching. Maybe he loves her, too, but this feels like a kiss searching for approval.

“I don’t deserve you,” Cassian murmurs, and then continues. “But I’ll make myself worth something to you.” 

Jyn opens her eyes. He’s already drifting off to sleep. He’s close, close enough for another kiss. But Jyn studies the curves on his face, the etches of war and worry at his eyes and lips. She doesn’t want to wake him up. As she starts to drowse, Jyn can still hear the cheering and celebrations from the main sections of the Yavin IV base.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with a fresh helping of plot and extra chapters

The princess and the senator, women in white, halt their private conversation and break out in genuine smiles as Jyn and Galen Erso approach. They all shake hands warmly and congratulate each other on such a victory on the heels of Scarif. And they begin to talk about news from other rebel sectors, likewise who are celebrating this success.

Mon Mothma speaks tactfully, true to her political roots. Leia talks without a trace of furtiveness, perhaps a trait picked up from the ruffians of her travels. Meanwhile, Jyn is always certain that she would misspeak or trip over a word when in the presence of such characters.

And Galen looks at these three women and smiles, knowing that the rebellion was in their resilient, capable hands. He would never claim anything except for pointing towards the Death Star’s fuse because it had always been a woman who spoke up and sparked a victory.

He sometimes didn’t recognize his daughter because the Jyn he raised was warned to always run away, to hide, to wait for someone else to come along. Galen had listened tearfully to her recounts of fighting with Saw’s rebels, eventual abandonment, and consequent times in Imperial jails. The rebellion plucked her from behind prison bars and called her  _ Jyn Erso _ , a name that she would have rather left behind in the dust.

If Galen had the ability to strip away her painful pasts, despite how they defined her stoicness ーas a father, he would. The defected scientist would only hope that as the gods above killed her mother and sent her down a path of tribulation, they wept, too.

Jyn tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, almost nervous-like. “Senator,” she says carefully. “I want to ask about Captain Andor.”

“Yes, I understand he led a rescue party yesterday. He hasn’t checked in this morning, but I’m sure that he’s celebrating somewhere.”

“Right.” She thinks about how she woke up to find him clinging to her, his pillow stained with tears. “I, uh, wanted to ask about what’s next for him ー and the Rogue One crew. Myself. Chirrut, Baze. Bodhi.”

Mon Mothma glances at Leia, who takes it as her cue to speak: “I would have the honor of inviting your squadron to a medal ceremony in the next few days. It relieves me that we would be able to congratulate you in person instead of martyrs. And Galen, of course, you too.”

“Many thanks, Your Highness,” Galen says gently. “But I would respectfully decline. Not only are there those more worthy of receiving high honors, I would part ways in the meantime.”

Jyn looks at him. “You’re leaving? To where?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I hoped to ask if you would follow me.”

Her mouth opens. She almost says  _ Of course. _

And then she looks at Leia, to whom she had pledged her efforts like a knight. She would not ask Jyn to stay, nor for her to go with her father; she was too much of a friend to ask of such.

And Bodhi, who she absolutely knew would join the rebellion if he were conscious.

And of course, Cassian and his kiss.

Seeing her hesitation, Galen reassures her to take her time with the decision. “I would loathe to drag you away from anything or anyone.” Whether he referenced the rebellion, Leia, or Cassian, she wouldn’t know.

Mon Mothma, unlike the princess, knew that every rebel was necessary for the effort and leapt into the conversation. “Jyn,” she says, “please know that if you stayed with the cause, I would assign Captain Andor and your Rogue One squadron a mission. Your last mission, which I would not entrust with anyone other than Rogue One.”

“‘Last’?” Jyn echoes.

“We cannot remain any longer on Yavin IV,” the senator explains, “It is only prudent to relocate as soon as possible. Bodhi Rook would need to seek medical care on Coruscant, and I have already heard from the Guardians that they plan to seek out NiJedha survivors. Upon our departure from Yavin IV, Rogue One would head immediately to their own destination.”

Jyn steels herself. The idea that Rogue One would part ways was not unexpected, but it still stings. If this mission was the very last they would share, and that Mon Mothma would assign only to the squadron, then Jyn decided to hear it out. “What’s the mission?”

Princess Leia, who had been briefed already, politely takes her leave to focus on other, immediate tasks. Galen Erso stays to hear the premise of the operation, but color drains from his face and he excuses himself.

Jyn listens like she’s in a dream. The mission: God to Eufornis Major and apprehend an Imperial deserter and their entourage, seemingly abandoned by the empire but not connections nor resources. When she learns their name, then Jyn has to grab something, the table, the blaster at her side, to steady herself. Mon Mothma had expected this.

She waits patiently for Jyn to accept the mission.

  
  


Jyn scolds herself as she enters Cassian’s room and was startled by the hulking, deactivated security droid in the corner. She calms her jumpy heartbeat, and sees Cassian still in bed as he toys with a holographic device. He’s reading some report but when Jyn enters, he sets it aside and smiles at her.

Not a trace of the wreck from last night.

“Hey, Cassian,” Jyn says. “How are you feeling?”

“Feeling great,” he responds. “Woke up, remembered that we destroyed the Death Star, and that the rebellion’s on its way to victory. Feeling great.” Jyn senses that he’s picking his words carefully and levelling his tone to trick her, to tell her that last night didn’t matter.

For now, Jyn is willing to talk about something else.

She nods at Kay, and asks, “How about him?”

“I was looking at his backup files and,” Cassian grunts, “the most recent one is when we returned from Eadu. I suppose it’s better than nothing, because right now, he’s still the Kay from when we first met.”

“Really?” Jyn asks, and sits down on the bed just as he gets up. She watches him cross the room and access Kay’s wiring. “When was that?”

“Well, I know that he was reprogrammed about twelve years ago, and then partnered with me when I became a captain,” Cassian’s voice floats out from behind the droid. There’s some muttering, and he peers at Jyn. “Could you pass me the ー you know, the ー yes, that, thank you.” He takes the holographic device, scans another file, and continues tinkering with newfound confidence. “Only a few KX-series droids were fully functional when we salvaged them. So one or two were reprogrammed, and the rest were put in storage in case of… well, what happened to Kay.”

It only now occurs to Jyn that this isn’t Kay’s original body, even though it should have been obvious. She squints and imagines that this Kay would enjoy having a fresh coat of paint. An absence of Jedha sand. She says, “Do I remember you saying something about taking this new droid without permission?”

Cassian closed Kay’s back panel and immediately the droid’s eyes lit up. “I, uh,” he bites his lip, feigning ignorance even though his eyes crinkled in a smile. “I don’t remember saying that. No, no, you must be mistaken.” He sits down heavily next to Jyn.

Jyn raises her eyebrows. “Uh huh.”

“Oh, hush,” he elbows her, and they wait for Kay as the droid’s systems recalibrated and updated. Jyn could feel the tension in Cassian’s body as he leaned against her. This droid meant a lot to him. Kay had probably saved him more times than Jyn could guess.

About a minute later, Kay’s head raised and his eyes focused on them. “Afternoon, Cassian. Hello, Jyn.”


End file.
